


we can light a match (and burn it down)

by orphan_account



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, pride and prejudice au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-16 10:40:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2266656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She saw his pride, the way he appeared almost resentful, and turned her cheek away from him without another word.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> After viewing the deleted scenes, I made a connection between the meetings of Fitz and Simmons and Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy. Thus, this au happened.

New York, New York - 1817

  
  


_You’re going to the ball._

_  
_

Her mother’s words echoed through her head, overpowering the words she read on the pages before her. The string of words mixed with the printed text of the novel, her mind reading the same five words over and over. _You're going to the ball_. And when her mother’s loud tone sounded from below, she was forced to close the book and make her way down the stairs.

“Jemma, this is the last time I will say it -”

With a roll of her eyes, Jemma reached the bottom of the staircase and gave her mother a small smile before passing her to join where her other sisters had congregated by her father. “I’m not even the last one down,” she protested, receiving a _tisk_ from her mother as the last of her sisters made an appearance.

  


Soon after, the carriage was called for and the Simmons family was traveling down the road to the city. Jemma kept silent as her mother rattled on about what was expected of them and how to impress potential suitors. No one, Jemma feared, would be able to hold her attention for the course of the night and she worried she would be stuck dancing with an irksome partner for the majority of the evening.

As the carriage pulled up and the family was escorted into the home where the ball was to take place, Jemma noticed her mother’s eye on both her and her eldest sister, Hannah, as a man stepped forward. Approaching them was Phil Coulson - a university scholar who had settled in the city with his fortune more than ten years back - and his wife. The pair were responsible for hosting the dance and had come forward to integrate the Simmons family amongst the higher society. Hannah was rushed off by her mother, ready to meet with the sister of her soon-to-be fiancé.

The sight of her daughter mingling with the American upper class brought a smile to face, a smile that soon faded when she caught sight of Jemma with her back against the wall and ignoring those that passed her. She hastily left the foyer for the ballroom, leaving her daughter alone to brood.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like acquainting herself with society, it was that she saw no purpose in wasting an evening talking to those well above her in terms of finance and below her in terms of intellect. She was looked down on for her family’s financial status at balls such as these, never being given a chance to show her intelligence to the crowd. So she remained silent and danced little, preoccupying herself with watching her sisters with their gleeful smiles and her anxious mother as she spoke to the fellow party goers when she entered the ballroom.

Her attention was soon taken away from watching her mother wipe at her brow with a little square cloth as Phil Coulson announced the arrival of the guests to whom the ball was dedicated. Antoine Triplett - a young African American business owner - stepped forward with his sister, Margaret, and another young man whose name was rumored to be Leopold Fitz.

Antoine was friendly with the guests, accepting their kind words and asking for anyone’s hand to join him in a dance. When rumors of Mr. Fitz receiving ten thousand a year began to circulate, however, he was put at forefront of conversation. Many approached and were soon turned away by his cold expression and empty words; the rumors of his fortune were then replaced by rumors of his pride and Antoine was back as topic of discussion.

He was new to the city, having just purchased a large estate in Queens and was dubbed as strikingly handsome. Few women in the crowd appeared distressed when he asked Jemma’s eldest sister to dance for the second time since his arrival. Of Fitz, they turned their cheek. He stood in the corner of the room, watching over the crowd with a solemn expression on his face. With Antoine at the forefront, Fitz was lost in the crowd.

Jemma had seated herself at one of the tables in the next room, finding her friend Skye as she passed where Jemma was seated. The two exchanged smiles as Skye took a seat beside her and their talk soon leaned towards Triplett and Fitz.

“He’s full of pride,” Jemma commented on Fitz’s standoffish behavior, “few women asked to dance and he refused them all, wanting to stay in his corner to sulk.”

“Maybe he doesn’t like dancing.”

Jemma scoffed, “Or maybe we’re not good enough for him.” she stood up then and urged Skye to follow her, leading her friend back to the ballroom. She hadn’t taken more than a step passed the threshold when a voice spoke to her, the unfamiliar accent filling her ears.

“Would you like to dance?”

Jemma searched his face for some indication that he was joking, but his expression remained deadpan and soon her hand was in his and the pair were making their way to the center of the room.

The two were awkward together, their steps not in line as they tried to time their movements to the music. He was too early and she too late; twice his foot stepped on her own and she let out a groan. Conversation was also not made easy as the pair swayed. Everything she asked was met with a nod or a quick response. Soon the only sound that passed between them was the rhythm of the song.

When the dance came to a close he gave a bow and she curtsied, giving a final look to him before leaving to once again assume her position in the other room. He resumed his position against the wall. Her resentment towards him only grew and with a fuming expression on her lips, she waited for Skye to return, ready to tell her of Fitz's pride.

  


* * *

 

The night continued on and Skye sat alone with Jemma under the staircase, going undetected by those passing by. One such group that passed them was that of Fitz and Triplett. Jemma prodded Skye to listen, biting at her lip as she heard her name mentioned.

“- and what do you think of her sister, Jemma?” Antoine asked in an earnest tone, a smile on his lips at the mention of his soon-to-be fiancée’s sister.

Fitz shrugged, “She’s tolerable at best. Can’t say she’s one for dancing though and she can’t hold a conversation worth a damn; she asked me about the weather twice.”

Jemma wanted to counter from where she sat, but a hand on her shoulder from Skye told her otherwise. “I only asked again because he didn’t answer me the first time,” she protested in a hushed tone. “I have never met anyone with such an ego, his head could not possibly get any bigger.”

As she fumed, Skye remained silent, deciding it best not to intrude on Jemma’s rant. When they watched the pair walk down the hall, she urged Jemma out of the spot under the staircase and soon they were laughing together as they entered back into the ballroom and respectively found partners for the final dance.

 

It was on the carriage ride out of the city that the Simmons family made their remarks on the people at the ball. Triplett was spoken highly of; the perfect suitor for the eldest daughter. Of Fitz, little talk was made. He was decided on as disagreeable by Jemma and her mother (which came as a shock to Jemma who had assumed she would swoon over the ten thousand a year). The others had not a comment to make on his appearance nor his attitude and the remainder of the ride was carried on in silence. 

Walking back into the house, Jemma decided that Leo Fitz would not be in her life any longer and breathed a sigh of relief as she ascended the stairs into her room. His words stuck in her mind, however, and instead of returning to her novel, she retired to bed in an attempt to forget the evening.

 _She's tolerable at best_. Were the words that stuck in her mind as she drifted into sleep; her final thoughts as she went under. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> conversations filled with pride and little thought

It was a week following the ball at the Coulson’s residence that a letter from Triplett’s sister was delivered to the eldest Simmons daughter. The family was gathered around the table for breakfast as Jemma’s mother read to them that Hannah’s presence was requested at their estate in Queens. She had been promptly invited to spend the day there, concluding with an evening meal.

Her mother cried aloud, urging Hannah to leave at once.

“May I take the carriage?” The daughter asked with a kind expression on her face, hoping her mother’s consent would be given. “It looks as if it’s going to rain and it’s an awfully long walk.”

Hannah was met with a strong shake of the head from her mother, who denied her the carriage. “If it rains, it will only give you more reason to stay longer.” Her mother was persistent, wishing her daughter out the door at once, hoping she could join them before lunch. Hannah could do nothing but comply and moments later she was on her way, walking through the streets of Queens to be received at the Triplett’s estate.

 

It was nearly three hours later, just past noon, that a letter was sent to the Simmons’ household informing them that Hannah would not be returning that evening. She had fallen ill on her journey over and they found her to be not fit enough to return home.

“Splendid!” Jemma was taken aback by her mother’s sudden expressions of joy at the news of her daughter falling ill. “She’ll have to stay the night, perhaps longer!”

A comment was given by Mr. Simmons, one that Jemma ignored as she walked closer to her mother, “Could I visit her, let her know we’ve received her letter? I could take care of her, after all.” She watched her mother look to her husband, weighing the options in her head.

“I see no reason why she cannot go." Mr. Simmons told his wife, who only nodded in hesitant agreement.

Jemma expressed her thanks and rushed to find her coat. She was out the door without another word, her feet taking her down the cobblestone pathway and onto the dusty road that would lead her to the estate. Her walk was nearly five blocks, passing through the heart of the borough before branching off into the newest addition of the neighborhood; the estates. Though the Simmons family too lived in Queens, their place of residence was in the lower end, the smaller cottage-like homes with land used for farming, not for leisure. As she traveled on, Jemma noticed the change in houses, seeing them from beyond the trees getting larger with each block that she walked. Turning onto the street with the Triplett’s estate, she laughed to herself. Only three other homes fit on the street; two standing on either side of the main road. Carriages passed by them with families like Jemma’s gawking at the long driveways and fresh lawns of the gated estates.

They seemed out of place in the city, their ample acres of land and iron gates clashing against the small shops and cottages around them. It was juxtaposition of the working class to those who had inherited money, like that of the Triplett family. Jemma brushed off her coat as she walked down to the second house on the right, knowing it belonged to her sister’s future fiancé.  

At the door she was greeted by a friend of the Triplett’s, one that had been at the dance the week prior. Jemma hadn't spoken to him, but recognized him for his kindness to her family. “I’m here to see my sister, Hannah Simmons.” Jemma gave a smile and a curtsey as Mr. Peterson allowed her to enter the house

“She’s upstairs, Miss Simmons. You can wait for her in the sitting room.”

Conversation ceased as she walked through the entranceway to the sitting room. Antoine sat closest to the window, ignoring the words of his sister and Fitz who sat close together on the cream colored sofa. Fitz quickly looked away from her as Jemma sat herself across from him on an opposing peach colored sofa. She could hear as Margaret spoke aloud to Fitz in an ill-mannered tone, “- and she comes in looking so unpresentable. Just look her petticoat, it's covered in mud!"

Jemma looked away, busying herself with looking around the room and not wanting to see if Fitz had turned back to look on her with his disapproving gaze. “Sure,” Jemma heard him say, feeling her cheeks grow hot with frustration as he did so.

Jemma stood up soon after his comment, holding her tongue as she walked over to Antoine to ask about seeing her sister. She was met with a smile and an offering to show her up to where her sister was staying. Jemma was grateful for his kindness, feeling so little of it from Fitz and Margaret.

The room Hannah was in was at the end of the first floor hallway. Antoine walked in first, announcing who had come to see her before Jemma too entered the room. “Feeling any better?” Jemma moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Triplett left soon after, saying he should get back to entertaining the other guests. Jemma thanked him for his hospitality and kindness as he shut the door.

“I’ve been better.” Hannah joked, sitting herself up with a cough. She apologized quickly, covering her mouth with a handkerchief that she kept in the pocket of her dress. “I’m sure mother is pleased.”

Jemma nodded, grinning at her sister. “She was so pleased you’d be spending this much time with Trip. Of course, you have to endure Fitz as well.”

“Honestly, Jemma, he’s not that bad; he’s just quiet.”

She scoffed, “His pride weighs him down.”

Her sister did not respond and Jemma informed her she should rest, hoping to see her face amongst the others at the dinner table. Hannah said she would do so and Jemma left with a little smile on her lips.

Jemma returned downstairs to find that Mr. Peterson had joined the group in the sitting room, asking if anyone wished to play cards with him.

"Jemma," Margaret opened her mouth to speak, "despises cards. She's an excellent reader but does little else."

Jemma blushed, seeing that all eyes had been turned to her. Triplett offered to show her his collection of books. "I'm not that good," she admitted, "and it's not the only thing I enjoy."

"It saddens me that our collection is nothing like the one at Mr. Fitz's estate." Margaret said, a dramatic flare added to her voice.

"Yeah, it better be good, it's many generations old." Came Fitz's only reply, his tone sullen.

He and Margaret continued to discuss the Pemberley estate, talking also about Miss Fitz, his sister. She was in good health, Jemma learned as she tried to focus on a book Triplett had found for her to read. She soon became much more wrapped up in the lives of others that she set the novel down and went to sit by Mr. Peterson at the card table.

Triplett, breaking the conversation about Fitz's sister, spoke about how amazed he was by the women in the room, saying how accomplished they all were.

Jemma heard Fitz scoff at this, "All of them?" He asked with building arrogance.

"Do you think us not accomplished?" Jemma contributed, her eyes meeting with his, "Then tell me, what makes an accomplished woman?"

"They must have an understanding in all the major fields of study and must also carry themselves, speak, and act in a way that makes what they're saying more than half-deserved."

Jemma began to play with her hands, trying to keep her composure as she spoke to Fitz, “The way you’re talking, I’m not sure this accomplished woman exists at all, or even an accomplished man. Clearly you believe that because a woman has one or two minor flaws they cannot be deemed accomplished.”

“I never -”

“That’s exactly what you’re saying.” She didn’t press the subject further, but stood from the card table and announced that she was going to check back in on her sister, though little time had passed since she had last seen her. She hoped her sister would be fit for dinner, not wanting to sit through a meal with both Fitz and Margaret watching her with judgment.

Hannah did sit through dinner, but announced that she would not be joining them in the sitting room following the meal. She offered that Jemma could stay with them and relay any important discussions back to them in the morning. When Jemma tried to object, Triplett announced that the two would be welcome to stay the night and that a carriage had been sent out to the Simmons house to collect clothing for both girls.

Jemma could only muster a smile and thank him for his graciousness.

* * *

The following morning, while the guests at the Queens Estate were gathered around in the sitting room, it was announced that a Mrs. Simmons had come to visit with her other daughters. Hannah and Jemma sat together on the peach sofa while their family sat across on the other. Both Mr. Peterson and Margaret quitted the room, Fitz never showing the the first place. Antoine sat at the desk, observing the conversation.

“Oh, I do think it’s unwise for her to come home if she’s still feeling so ill.”

“I agree,” Triplett responded to Mrs. Simmons in a calm manner.

Jemma appreciated Triplett for his compassion towards Hannah and for his patience with her mother. She gave him a smile that soon disappeared when Jemma’s youngest sister, Cora, opened her mouth.

“You’ve got a very large home, you should throw a ball!”

Jemma tried to stop her, looking on her with a stern eye.

Triplett gave a slow nod, processing the information carefully before saying to the family, “I don’t see why not.”

Little conversation happened after Cora’s request and soon Mrs. Simmons and her other daughters were saying their goodbyes. Jemma opted to stay with Hannah for awhile longer, wanting her to have a familiar face to talk to before she was ready to go home.

 

Later that afternoon Jemma felt Margaret lean into her, speaking to her in a loud voice as they sat together on the peach sofa, "Come, walk with me around the room." She stood herself up, offering a hand for Jemma to stand as well. Fitz was the only other in the room, busy with a book and paying little attention to the girls. As they began to walk about the room, however, he set down the book and began to watch them with an awkward eye.

Jemma wondered why Triplett's sister was now so willing to engage in talk with her. Still, she walked around the room with her arm looped with Margaret's. As they walked past where Fitz sat, Margaret urged her to laugh. The sounds of their laughter chiming together caused him only to groan and say to them, “I know why you’re doing this.”

“And why is that?” Margaret asked innocently, batting an eye at Fitz.

He turned to face them fully now, “Either you are engaging in professional matters, which appears unlikely because you two keep laughing, or you’re aware of your - uh, figures and have no problem showing them off. If the first, continue on, but don’t be so damn loud; if the second, I can watch better from over there.” He looked to the fireplace.

Margaret urged Jemma to take a seat with her on the couch again, asking her, “How shall we punish him for such words?”

Jemma tried to hide a smile, “I think we should tease him for acting so ridiculous. Surely his pride will be diminished if we do so.”

“The best men are always ridiculed at.” Fitz spoke quietly, not unnoticed by Jemma, however.

“Certainly - but you must not be one. I never ridicule what is wise and good. I laugh at nonsense.”

The two continued in a banter until Margaret asked Jemma what her final assessment of Fitz was.

“I must admit, he has no defect,” Jemma stated plainly.

“No,” Fitz began, “I have faults. I can’t forgive the follies of others or their offences against me. Once you lose my good opinion, it is lost forever.”

Jemma was surprised, it was the most she had heard him say since the two had met. “Resentment of character, yes. Well, Fitz, you are safe from me. I’ve decided your defect is to hate everybody.”

“And yours,” he replied, “is willfully to misunderstand them.”

The two did not speak after this, Jemma had asked to leave the room to check on Hannah.

After she was gone, Fitz decided he found danger in paying her too much attention.

Both wished for the other to depart from the estate at once and, for the rest of their stay, neither engaged in conversation with the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I say this a lot, but I am so sorry this took so long for me to update. It's here now, however, and I tried to make it extra long!


End file.
